


mochi

by Quillium



Series: I Have a Spatula [8]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Cass bullies Jason (sibling style), Gen, don't need to read the rest of the series to read this, we're moving on from pancakes to... idk what anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 10:02:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18892393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillium/pseuds/Quillium
Summary: She closes her eyes and tries to sleep, but now she wants ice cream, so Cass takes Jason’s.ORMoments between Cass and Jason.





	mochi

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't everything I want in a Jason and Cass fic so I'll probably write more on them later but it's late and I'm tired so this is all you get for now. I hope you enjoy!

Everything is so much harder now that Cass has words. Now that she is a person.

It is not bad. It is better, she knows.

But it’s still harder. So much harder.

She’s expected to speak and react and others want to know how she feels and what she wants and it is _good_ , it is kind, but sometimes Cass thinks it would be easier if she were just a weapon again, then everything would be straightforward and she’d have a purpose.

Cass has no purpose. Cass’s purpose is to enjoy life. This is hard, because she has to think about what she wants. She has to come to her own conclusions. They aren’t given to her straight out, she is given hints, bits and pieces, and she has to puzzle it together because only she knows what image it should form.

She wants Jason to read to her but Jason is tired. Cass does not know what to do. She should let Jason rest. But she wants him to read to her.

Selfless. Selfish. They blur together, Bruce says, because the people you love want you to be selfish sometimes, but Cass knows in her head that if you are selfish, someone else must be selfless, and that makes things hard because she doesn’t know when it’s okay to be selfless or selfish. There is no instruction of when to do what, when you are the giver, or when you are the receiver of love.

Jason is staring at his hands, back against the door between his balcony and living room. Cass is on the roof, invisible. She is the night. Jason is in between. He is not Red Hood but he is not Jason. He is conflicted.

So is Cass.

Tim is the only one who isn’t conflicted like this. Who knows who he is for sure. It is not because he is ahead of them. It is because he is too tired all the time to think about such things. It is because Tim is always finding new purposes for himself, new missions, too busy moving to linger.

Cass isn’t sure if that’s a bad thing or not. It might be easier, to be like Tim, nonstop, always driven, but she doesn’t like it when Tim is like that. It’s not healthy. No good. Tim gets stressed and unhappy and pulls away from people, but nobody is made for loneliness.

Jason tries not to linger, but he always lingers. He’s stuck between the past and present, too caught up to notice that he’s moving towards a confused future.

Dick is caught between what he wants and what other people want, too. But it’s different. He likes it when people are not worried. When they are happy. That is his purpose, though he tries to pretend it’s not. It’s a secondary purpose, beneath whatever he decides to do, trying to make sure everyone is happy, pleased.

Cass likes making people happy, but she will not lie to do it. She likes when others are at peace, but she is smart. She knows not to hide her own unhappiness.

If Cass is unhappy, she will tell someone, so they can make her happy again, because her family can always make her feel better.

Jason is still unmoving. He seems frustrated.

Cass lands. She is not fully Cass, either. She is Black Bat. Silent. Still. Darker than the sky.

“Stay in today,” she says, deciding. She thinks Jason will be better reading to her. Otherwise he will patrol. Sleep is best, but Jason is stubborn, so she will have this instead. Win-win.

“C,” Jason says, startled. He shakes his head a bit.

“Stay,” Cass insists, “Read to me.”

Jason scrunches up his nose, like he knows she’s tricking him but isn’t sure how. “Is something up?”

“I want you to read to me,” Cass says. Crosses her arms over her chest.

A wry smile curls at the edges of Jason’s lips, like steam from a microwaved muffin. “I see. Any preferences for the evening?”

Cass thinks. She doesn’t want something loud or exciting. Nothing like patrol. Nothing like fighting. Something quieter, the she can listen to while she makes food. “Poetry,” she says.

“Alright,” Jason smiles, “That all for tonight?”

“I’m using the kitchen,” Cass says grandly.

“Of course,” Jason raises an eyebrow, “And what are you making?”

“Surprise,” Cass bounces a bit in place, “New books?”

“Yeah, Dick sent me a copy of _whiskey, words and a shovel_ last Tuesday. You interested?”

“Yes,” Cass says.

“’Course you are,” Jason shoves his hands in his pockets and stares over the streets below, eyes raking over everything with uncertainty in the set of his shoulders. He shakes his head a bit, like he’s drawing himself out of something, and then nods at Cass, “Alright, in we go, I guess.”

Cass pulls out the beans to make _ba bao zhou_ while Jason pulls his new book from his bedside drawer. She washes and soaks them while Jason starts reading, and then sets the timer for an hour when she’s done.

“Making congee?” Jason asks knowingly.

Cass tucks her head on Jason’s shoulder. She is tired today. He understands this tired, she thinks, this heavy sort of tired that makes her want to sleep forever with someone beside her.

“Yeah,” Jason says, and begins to read.

__

Jason is tired a lot.

He used to be angry a lot. Cass used to look at him and see anger even when Jason wasn’t angry, even when he was okay, or as close to it as he could be at that time.

But that angry is gone now. Gone for good, she hopes. She knows it’s because of the family. Because of Dick and Tim and Bruce and Damian and Steph and her and Barbara and Alfred. It makes her happy, knowing that they got rid of the anger. Angry is tiring. Angry is bad.

But now Jason is tired. He spent too much being angry all the time and now that the anger is gone, he’s left drifting, uncertain where to land.

Cass doesn’t fully understand, but she maybe does, a little. It’s always like that. She never fully understands, but she always understands a little. Just a part. But it is enough.

It is not bad to be tired. Tired means you have to rest. It is a signal, like cars before they turn. But you cannot rest from the bad. Bad comes with life, just like good comes with life. That makes Cass tired, too.

What to do?

He can’t stop being Jason. Jason is good at being Jason. At going to university and reading big books and cooking simple foods.

But he won’t stop being Red Hood. He has too much he thinks he has to do, too much he wants to do. Too much bad to stop being good.

Cass cannot make him stop, so she settles for the in-between. The moments when Jason has free time, when he isn’t on either side of the line but is just himself, nothing stuck in stone for him to do.

“Package,” Cass says as soon as Jason opens the door.

Jason rubs the heel of his hand against his eyes, “Right. Is it from Dick?”

“Yes,” Cass says, tapping the bright pink sticky note stuck on top with a little heart as a signature. “Looks cute.”

“Hm,” Jason opens the box. He is a bit excited, Cass thinks, even though the packages are regular. Normal. But they still make him smile. Cass likes that. She will have to tell Dick. “Got a recipe for apple pie. Want to look it over?”

“Pictures?” Cass asks hopefully.

“Loads,” Jason passes her a shiny piece of paper that feels thick and solid in her fingers. Little squares with bright photographs accompany every step of instruction.

“Looks good,” Cass says.

“Yeah?” Jason pulls out a package of gel pens and swears, “How does he always know when I run out?”

“Magic,” Cass says. She considers the recipe and then shoves it at Jason, “Looks yummy?”

“Yeah, it—“ Jason pauses. Looks at her thoughtfully. “Are you trying to get me to make it for you?”

“Maybe,” Cass says, unashamed.

“Little trickster.”

Cass giggles, “You can share.”

“Of course I am, these are my apples,” Jason pulls out a few apples, “ _Finally_. Dick’s been sending me a lot of melon lately.”

“Spring,” Cass twirls a bit, “Make now?”

“So impatient,” Jason sighs dramatically.

“So slow,” Cass mimics Jason’s sigh.

He shakes his head and taps a finger on her nose, “Spoiled brat.”

“Brat,” Cass agrees brightly, kissing Jason’s cheek.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He demands.

Cass takes the pens from Jason’s hands and floats out of the kitchen, “Love you!”

“This doesn’t mean you can skimp on helping!”

“Skimping!” Cass says empathetically.

“No, you—!”

Graciously, Cass allows Jason to share the apple pie with her when it is done.

__

“Sit,” are the first words out of Cassandra fucking Cain’s mouth when Jason skids into the kitchen. The nerve. The absolute nerve.

“ _What_?” he demands, breathlessly, pointlessly, because he’s been bamboozled and what’s worse, he _knows it_ , even before the stupid _what_ comes out of his mouth.

“Hey, Jay,” Dick waves cheerfully, unabashed and unashamed of their trickery, “Come sit, you look out of breath.”

“I look out of breath because Cass sent me a text saying that I was needed here immediately!” Alfred hands Jason a glass of water, “Thanks, Alfie. I thought there was an emergency!”

“Wouldn’t _text_ ,” Cass sounds offended, “Would call.”

“Tt,” Damian squints at Jason, “You should have asked for clarification.”

“I thought it was an emergency, as in, I needed to be here _as soon as possible_!”

“Sorry for the miscommunication, Jaybird,” Dick says breezily, lightly, as though the fact that Jason did a ridiculous amount of stunt work to get here as fast as possible is no big deal. “If you could wash your hands before you join us—“

“I did not come here to _cook_.”

“Wash hands,” Cass says, “Then cook.”

The nerve. The absolute nerve.

Jason washes his hands and then sits down in a stool between Cass and Dick. “What are we making?”

“ _Yuan xiao_ ,” Cass points at a laminated cue card with a picture printed neatly next to it, “Very simple. Making lots.”

“Huh. Why me?” Jason peers at Damian and Dick, who are whispering about something or the other. Thick as thieves.

“Was supposed to be with the whole family,” Cass puffs out her cheeks, “But Steph already grabbed the others to make mochi.”

“…And you can’t make both in the same kitchen because…?”

Cass squints at him for a moment, as though she’s thinking really hard. Jason can’t really tell why. It’s not that hard of a question, he’s pretty sure.

Then Cass lights up, “ _Yes_!” She agrees brightly, “We can do both together!”

Cass is the smartest but sometimes Cass is the dumbest.

Jason flicks rice flour in her face and then kisses her forehead, “You idiot.”

“Yes,” Cass sighs, solemnly, “I am.”

“Cassandra is not an idiot,” Damian says, interrupting his whispering with Dick.

“Of course not,” Dick agrees, “Jay’s just teasing.”

“Tt,” Damian glares at Jason, “Do you have a preferred filling?”

Huh. A friendly question. Maybe he wasn’t glaring? Maybe that’s just how Damian’s face looks. “Uh,” Jason glances around the room for sign of what the fillings are and comes up short. “What are my options?”

“Red bean, black sesame and—“ Dick glances at Damian, smiling, “Sorry, forgot the last one.”

He didn’t. Jason knows, Damian knows, everyone knows that Dick didn’t forget the last one. Damian still fills him in, clicking his tongue against the back of his teeth, “White bean.”

“That’s right,” Dick snaps his fingers, sending rice flour spraying into the air, “White bean. A bit more unconventional.”

“They all sound good,” Jason says, “What about you, short stack?”

Damian visibly restrains himself from strangling Jason, “I am not short. I am partial to the white bean filling.”

“Hm. That’s fair,” Jason watches Cass roll out a small circle of flour before pulling a bag of filling from what seems like nowhere, “What about Cass and Dickie?”

“Cassandra is partial to the red bean, whilst Grayson prefers the black sesame.”

Huh. An even split. Jason bites back a smile, “I see. You know, there’s nothing wrong with being short—“

“I am not short.”

“—Right, right, but let’s say, in reality, you’re tiny—“

Dick ends up having to hold Damian back from punching Jason. Jason regrets nothing.

__

Cass has eaten a lot and now she is sleepy. Bruce is in the study and Cass does not want to walk all the way there so she moves to where Jason is sitting, talking with Steph, and leans against him, using his shoulder as a pillow.

Jason stops mid-sentence to glance at her and say, “Um.”

“Ignore her,” Steph waves a hand, “She’s just tired and you’re the bulkiest person here and ergo the best pillow.”

Jason pats her head, “Does this mean I get the rest of your mochi?”

“No,” Cass says.

“Yeah, Jason,” Steph says, “You can’t take Cass’s mochi just because she’s tired! It’s obviously mine.”

“Nooo,” Cass says.

“I’ll just take the chocolate ones. You can have your vanilla and green tea stuff.”

Cass scrunches up her nose, “Chocolate is the worst. You can have it.”

Steph barks with laughter, “Much obliged.”

Cass hums and flops over so she’s lying on her back, head on Jason’s legs. “Too much muscle,” she decides, poking his stomach, “Need to be softer.”

Jason eats one of the _yuan xiao_. A bit of the outside sticks to his teeth but Cass decides not to tell him because it makes him look funny. “Having muscles is a good thing, Cass.”

“No,” Cass shakes her head, “Too much. Good pillows are soft.”

Jason looks amused, “My sole purpose isn’t to be a good pillow to you, you little brat.”

“Why not?” Cass is nonplussed.

Jason messes up her hair on purpose, because she is teasing and he knows that she is teasing. Cass allows herself to smile. “You’re terrible,” Jason announces.

“Totally,” Steph says, mouth full of Cass’s chocolate mochi, “How’d you finish all your rice balls so fast? I’ve only eaten, like, five.”

“You eat slow.”

“Okay, well, Jason’s eaten the same mount of rice balls and he hasn’t eaten any mochi either, so he’s even _slower_.”

“Hm,” Cass considers, “Both of you are slow pokes.”

Jason pokes her cheek, “Are not.”

“Are,” Cass snickers.

“You’re just fast.”

“Both are true.”

“Yeah,” Steph agrees. She licks the ice cream off her fingers, “You’re seriously slow. You take little nibbles out of your food and then chew it really slowly, too.”

“It’s called _savouring each bite_.”

“It’s called being slow.”

Cass laughs..

Jason looks down at her and tries to look stern, but he is smiling so he fails. “Little brat.”

“Big brother,” Cass reaches up to pat his cheek, “Fatten up and be a good pillow.”

Jason looks offended. Steph falls off her chair laughing.

Cass is no longer tired. She is perfectly at peace, here, with her family, and looking at Jason, she thinks he is, too.

That is good.

She closes her eyes and tries to sleep, but now she wants ice cream, so she takes Jason’s.

“You still have your own left!” Jason protests.

“No chocolate,” Cass says seriously.

“You’re eating my vanilla mochi!”

“Hm,” Cass bites Jason’s mochi in half. It is a mistake, too cold against her teeth, but she won’t let him know that. “Yummy.”

Jason moans.

Steph laughs.

Cass smirks and takes another one of Jason’s mochi.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I accidentally leaned a bit too much into traditional Chinese food with Cass so I tried my best to restrain myself, but you guys tell me how well I did in that department. If you cannot tell by the existence of this series, I had a craving for sweets while writing.


End file.
